


The Thing

by aussiebee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is not a patient man, Gen, Lassie jokes, Pointless, stiles is not subtle, there is a well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 14:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussiebee/pseuds/aussiebee
Summary: There is a well. Lassie jokes follow. Naturally.





	The Thing

The moment it happened, the  _very moment_  Derek found himself standing in knee-deep water and staring up at the small circle of sky as though from the bottom of a vertical tunnel lined with brick, he knew. **  
**

“Derek, you okay?” Stiles’ voice, concerned and echoing against the stone as his face appeared over the lip of the hole and he stared down at Derek with panic writ large across his features.

“I’m fine.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Derek?”

“Don’t say it, Stiles,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes as though that was going to deter him.

“Are you…” A stifled laugh. “You seem to have fallen into a well, Derek.”

Gritting his teeth, Derek struggled to keep his tone even. “I’m probably better aware of that than you, moron. Go get the rope out of the car, the stone’s too smooth down here for me to climb out.”

“I just want you to know that I am very obviously not saying  _the thing,”_  Stiles told him, voice shaking with suppressed mirth.

Derek could hear how much it was costing Stiles not to make the obvious comment, but he didn’t appreciate the effort, not when the sounds of his poorly concealed snorts of laughter were echoing down to where he was stuck. “Noted. Now go and get the rope.”

“Because I could,” Stiles continued, blithely ignoring Derek. “I could say  _the thing,_  you know, and there wouldn’t be anything you could do about it.”

“Until I got out,” Derek reminded him coldly. “Rope, Stiles.  _Now.”_

“Do you see what your friendship means to me?” Stiles entreated. “I feel like a part of me is dying by not saying  _the thing.”_

“It would probably be less painful for both of us if you just went ahead and said it,” Derek shouted up at him, frustration flooding through him.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. Wouldn’t impose that upon our friendship. I’m above dog jokes, you see.”

“No I don’t see, because it’s dark as hell down here, believe it or not. And as much as I would love to continue this  _delightful_  little chat about your manfully abstaining from making an outdated, irrelevant and utterly  _unfunny_  gag at my expense, I’d much prefer to get out of here and congratulate you in person for your self-restraint. So go and  _get the fucking rope.”_

“No need to be like that,” Stiles told him huffily. “I texted Scott as soon as you fell in. To this well.”

 _“Absolutely will push you in,”_  Derek muttered to himself as he slumped back against the wall and waited.

“What was that?”

“Still can’t see a thing,” Derek yelled back, eyes narrowed at Stiles’ too-innocent voice.

They remained like that for a few moments as they waited for Scott, Stiles making the  _most subtle allusions in the world to the thing_  as Derek began fantasising in vivid technicolour about the beautiful moment when he was finally free and could get his hands on Stiles.

“Hey Derek?”

Hearing the note of worry in Stiles’ voice, Derek lifted his head and looked up. “Yeah?”

“You really okay?”

Huffing out a wry laugh through his nose, Derek closed his eyes for a moment, the silhouetted outline of Stiles’ face against the late afternoon sky superimposed behind his eyelids. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Stiles said, “because Scott’s here with the rope. Will it help you if we tie a stick to the bottom of it, or..?” He broke into a bright peal of laughter as Derek growled low, barely loud enough to be heard.

It took a few tries, but Derek eventually hauled himself over the lip of the abandoned well, panting with the effort as he rolled onto his back and stared up at all the open space surrounding them.

“You good, buddy?” Stiles asked, eyes raised as he watched Derek climb to his feet. He dusted himself off and moved towards the car, deliberately brushing against Stiles hard enough to send him back a step so his heel slipped off solid ground and into midair over the well’s lip, his arms wheeling wildly as he sought to regain his balance.

“Careful there, Timmy,” Derek murmured as he grabbed Stiles’ shirtfront and jerked him back onto solid ground, bringing him right into Derek’s own personal space so they were standing chest-to-chest. “Wouldn’t want  _you_  to fall down the well, now, would we?”

There followed a moment that felt like it was suspended in time before Derek took a half step back and carefully smoothed Stiles’ shirt, wide brown eyes watching him in stunned bemusement. He turned and walked off again, but practically heard the enormous grin begin to cross Stiles’ face.

 _“No,”_  Stiles breathed incredulously. “Did you just… seriously, did you just make a joke, Derek? A Lassie joke? Scott, are you hearing this? My whole world view has been shaken. I am shaking, dude, you don’t even know–”

Derek just smirked.


End file.
